


Drinking Games

by Yuripaws



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Awkward Crush, Balthuri Week (Fire Emblem), Dorks in Love, Drinking, First Kiss, Gambling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuripaws/pseuds/Yuripaws
Summary: Two fools at a bar what will they do.(Get drunk and swindle, that's what.)Day 5 of Balthuri Week: Laughter/Gambling
Relationships: Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43
Collections: Balthuri Week





	Drinking Games

**Author's Note:**

> first balthuri fic finally lmao this was a lot of fun to write... they're both so stupid... goddess bless....

A sudden shout rings out over the din. Another rises to meet it, then another, and another. It’s a cacophony of voices that Balthus is almost too used to -- something he’s heard plenty of times in all his years. He shifts toward the source, eyes sharp and hands tensing as his favorite three words start an uproar in the tavern.

“Drinks on me!”

Does Balthus know who the hell this guy is? No. But that’s not gonna stop him from pretending he does. Gotta take advantage when the opportunity presents itself, yeah? And that’s how he ends up nabbing five tankards -- two in each hand and one clenched between his teeth at the rim -- from a drunk, generous, and now very broke bastard. Goddess bless him.

Balthus dips out of the crowd and far away from the loud frenzy at the bar counter. Not that the tavern itself is very quiet. No establishment so near the capital is. Bit of an odd place for disreputable commoners and slightly less disreputable Adrestian nobles to have themselves a little mixer, but Balthus isn’t complaining. And neither is Yuri.

“Really now?  _ Ha ha!” _

Speak of the devil. Yuri’s laughter rings out from a nearby table. It’s his fake laugh -- pretty and just loud enough to attract curious gazes. Pretty damn convincing to anyone who doesn’t know him as well as Balthus does. With that ego-inflating thought in mind, he comes up and stares down some fancy-pants noble that’d taken his seat.

Yuri tears his attention away from another noble he’d just been buttering up and looks at this one as if he’d forgotten he were there.

“We through here? That chair’s taken.”

The guy scrambles away without a word, and the other sorry sap is practically quivering in fear as he watches the exchange. Maybe it’s Balthus’ threatening and sexily rippling muscles. Or the foam from the ale bubbling over his chin and making him look like a rabid raccoon. Whatever it is, the coward says his hurried goodbyes and is off like a terrified squirrel. Good to know that the Bodacious King of Bodyguarding can send ‘em running at a glance. He plops down in his rightful place -- by Yuri’s side.

“You scared away the fun, Balthus.”

Balthus, now free of his tankard muzzle, just passes two drinks over. “The fun’s just arrived. Drink up, Boss!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuri mutters before taking a swig. But Balthus sees the fond gleam in those pretty purple eyes over the rim. It twists his stomach a little. And not in a bad way. … Maybe. He clears his throat.

“Besides, thought you said no business tonight. Just pleasure.” Balthus tries and fails to hide a grin behind his tankard. “Though I guess there’s no greater pleasure to you than cheating the rich outta their gold.”

It’s certainly something the tricky little bastard’s good at. Despite his small admonishment, Balthus would gladly sit back and watch the master at work. Too bad half the patrons here are just Yuri’s gang members, and the rest of them are too versed in the ways of the Savage Mockingbird to challenge him. For now, at least. The night is young and everyone’s judgement is dwindling by the pint.

Another shout, another generous soul handing out drinks. Without a word, he and Yuri raise and clink their tankards together. Things are about to get reeeeal interesting.

*

_ “DAMN IT!” _

Ah, the sound of a sore loser. Balthus, on his… eighth? tenth? tankard of ale, snorts far too loudly as he watches Yuri sweep gold into his purse. The lady who’d just lost is hissing all sorts of drunken profanity --  _ hey watch it, pal, you leave his mom outta this _ \-- but she’s led away by an equally pissed off but slightly more composed companion.

“Ha! Who’s next?” Yuri may be pink-cheeked and halfway through his sixth ale, but his mind’s still sharp and his luck’s as good as ever. “Aw, you won’t leave me all on my lonesome here, will you?”

That’s almost enough to lure in his next victim from the small crowd -- some trembling sap that goes red-faced the moment Yuri smiles at him. Oh, that smile. Those curling and glossy pink lips. Balthus can’t blame the guy. He’d have gone a bit weak in the knees, too.

_ Gods, not this shit again. _ Balthus hides his face in his drink again. Maaaaybe drinking heavily next to the godsdamned prettiest bastard in the world hadn’t been his brightest idea. Every smile, every toss of his long, silky hair, all the soft breathy laughs and loud, chiming fake ones… they’re getting to him tonight. More than usual.

Has Yuri always been sitting this close to him?

“Hey, Balthus? You still with us, friend?” Yuri’s leaning in, and it doesn’t take a genius to see that he’s buzzed as hell. His eyes are just the slightest bit hazy, but still as keen as ever, and -- “Don’t tell me you’re down and out already? What happened to the Indomni- Indomitit- fuck it, the  _ Almighty _ King of Drinking?”

Oh. Oh no, he’s cute. Balthus has his ale in a death grip.

“Y-yeah, heh, what d’you take me for, Boss? I was just, uh. Thinking.” Wrong answer. Yuri tilts his head in confusion. It’s adorable.

“Last answer I expected to hear. Not that you don’t think,” he clarifies, having grown much kinder to him over the years, “but you never  _ think _ when you can  _ drink _ instead.” 

Before Balthus can answer, Yuri slides something toward him. And Goddess fucking Almighty, if it isn’t a handful of dice and some playing chips.

“Boss,” he starts, but Yuri reaches out to press a clumsy finger to his lips.

“Shush, shush, you got nothing to lose. I pay you for a living, it’s  _ my _ gold anyway. So let’s play, yeah? Everyone else is a coward.”

Balthus is something of a coward himself… in his own very specific way. But he sure as hell isn’t about to expose his ass by saying so. Running a hand through his wild and dark mane of hair, he hefts a massive sigh. Then flashes a cheeky but defeated grin. Well, here goes.

“I don’t have a say in this, do I?”

Yuri’s smile says it all.

*

“How can one man lose so  _ much?” _

“Laugh it up, pal. We’ll see who’s the unlucky one this ti -- oh, come  _ on!” _

Yuri, another two drinks in, is giggling wildly and snatching up playing chips like a bird stealing bread crumbs. Balthus slumps back against his chair and groans. Man, he’s really eating it this time. This game has got to be rigged. No man’s  _ that _ lucky.

But no, Yuri had handed over his Special Dice as proof that he wouldn’t be cheating for the rest of the night. So Balthus just has to sit here and believe that the prettiest man in the world is also the luckiest man in the world.

There’s a short silence as Yuri looks at him in some surprise, blinks for a moment, then erupts into more giggles. “Yeah? Tell me how you really feel, Baltie.”

Oh, he did  _ not _ just say that out loud. Shit.  _ Fuck. _ Well, he’d better own it.

“I said what I said, Boss. What’s it like, being so blessed?”

Yuri doesn’t answer. He just pushes the chips back to the center of the table. “Another round? Let’s make it interesting, darling.”

‘Darling?’ Nope, Balthus sure as hell isn’t falling for that. Even if his face grows warmer.

“Alright. Let’s hear it, pretty boy.”

Are they too loud? They’re too loud. One of Yuri’s goons the next table over lets out a sharp wolf whistle, and a few others follow from the rest of the pack. Balthus would be making a hit list right about now if he weren’t so wasted. Yeah, maybe his crush has always been just a  _ bit _ obvious to everyone else. Hell, he isn’t the only bird in the flock with their eyes on this pretty little lily. But no one dares. Not even Balthus himself.

_ He’s way outta my league, _ he thinks as Yuri leans closer to murmur something only they can hear.  _ He could have anyone he wanted. He’d never go for someone like me. _

“This is cliche. So don’t --  _ don’t _ laugh. But how about…” He draws out this word a little, clearly reveling in the anticipation of the kill. “A kiss. If you win, that is.”

If the Goddess herself had descended into the tavern to buy Balthus a round of drinks and then declare him the new Archbishop of Fódlan, he’d be less shocked than he is now.

_ “Kiss?!” _

Ugh, him and his big damn mouth. More whistles, playful jeers, and for fuck’s sake is someone making  _ kissy _ noises? He’ll knock their ass into next week.

Yuri seems entirely unfazed. The bastard’s practically having the time of his damn life over here. In fact, with each passing round, his laughter grows steadily more genuine. It sheds its many layers of carefully crafted calculation and becomes... breathtaking.  _ He’s _ breathtaking. Heart-stopping. Ethereal.

Yeah, this is the one. The man Balthus wants to stand by for the rest of his days.

He swallows his nerves -- along with a couple mouthfuls of ale. “Deal. Just don’t wimp out in front of everyone once I wipe the floor with you, Boss.”

Another laugh -- this one fake indignant, but still full of glee. “Try me, sweetheart.”

Balthus scoops up his dice, presses a kiss to them, and lets ‘em rip.

They clatter across the tabletop -- one, two, three -- and the ringing in his ears nearly silences the din of the crowd surrounding their game. A sudden thought sobers him. Does it matter whether he wins or loses? Would a kiss won be a kiss worth celebrating? Stupid questions, maybe. Or maybe Balthus is in deeper than he’d realized.

_ I’ve got it bad, _ he thinks as the dice settle.  _ Real, real bad. _

He’d rolled low. Very low. Little to no chance of winning against whatever number Yuri’d get, no doubt about it. But he still holds his breath as Yuri gives his own dice a kiss -- eyes never leaving Balthus’ face -- and rolls.

The dice hardly fall into place when Yuri bursts out laughing and rises from his seat. Balthus has just enough time to read the roll before his attention is thoroughly averted.

Each die had landed on a one.

Three Houses.

Yuri is practically in his lap now, cupping his face amid the hooting and hollering around them, but there’s an oddly quiet moment where they lock eyes, and Yuri’s gaze goes so very soft. Balthus’ breath catches in his chest as he tries to speak. The question comes out in a shaky voice just above a whisper.

“You sure?”

Those beautiful eyes go sharp again -- no amount of booze can dull the mind of the Savage Mockingbird.

“Positive.”

The ale tastes better on Yuri’s lips, sweetened by strawberry gloss and strengthened by the fact that he’s Yuri, and he’s got Balthus’ cheeks beneath the pads of his thumbs with surprising tenderness, and  _ goddess, _ has Balthus ever been kissed like this? The tongue that darts out playfully against his own is like a stab to his stomach, and he’d gladly accept being shanked to death. Dying by this man’s hand would be the only way to go.

It isn’t until Yuri makes a soft sound that Balthus realizes he’s squeezing him around the waist. His fingers nearly meet around the back and fuck, nope, that’s enough --

Pulling away is one of the most disappointing things he’s ever experienced, but it’s almost worth it to see Yuri’s face -- cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes shining. Balthus feels that stab once more, and this time it goes straight to his heart. Death by Yuri, yet again.

The tavern has long since erupted into cheers that Balthus had hardly noticed while he was… busy. To hell with all of them. Yuri is speaking now, and his voice is the only one worth listening to. Balthus leans in closer with almost embarrassing eagerness. Yuri’s palms still rest against his reddened cheeks.

“So. Tell me how you really feel, yeah?”

The swelling in Balthus’ chest is unfamiliar and almost unbearable. When he heaves a heavy breath, he realizes it’s just a laugh of relief. Relief, and… something else. Something new. He laughs again, just to feel that something. Man, a guy could get used to this. Stabby feeling and all.

“Like the luckiest guy in the world.”

Yuri’s never looked this soft in the entire time Balthus has known him. The haze of several pints of ale has settled over the both of them again, reducing them to quiet laughter and murmurs so sweet that Yuri would become  _ murderous _ over it the next morning, Balthus knows it. 

Well, goodbye to their little moment -- better get back to the fun. Balthus turns to the crowd with a shit-eating grin and shouts.

“Hey, drinks on me, pals!”

Aaaaand that does the trick. Yuri has him by the face again -- much less lovingly -- and raises his voice amid the new uproar.

“Not with  _ MY _ fucking gold,  _ BALTHUS!” _

_ Ah, yeah, _ Balthus thinks as he roars with laughter and tries to squirm away.  _ That ‘something’ might be love. _


End file.
